


'And Back'

by Forbiddenmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton Irwin - Freeform, Calum Hood - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, Luke Hemmings - Freeform, Michael Clifford - Freeform, So yeah, Tattoos, hes so adorable pah, mikey is a child and get super excited about it, none other than fluff, so its about you, so yeah tattoos and huging, thats kinda it, yeah fluff, yet again, you get a tattoo, your the girl again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forbiddenmichael/pseuds/Forbiddenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking one last soothing breath, you pulled on the tied drawstring of the bottoms and let them fall to the floor. The black of the tattoo contrasted with the pale of your skin, and now more than ever you felt terrified under Michael’s intense gaze. Still transfixed by the two words, he stumbled onto his knees and walked on them over to where you stood. Trembling hands traced over the print and the dark haired boy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.</p><p>or when you get a tattoo, and the black ink that marks your skin, makes his head swim</p>
            </blockquote>





	'And Back'

**Author's Note:**

> this is quite short but still, very cute again

As you lay on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to his steady heart beat through his unclothed chest, you let out a sigh of contentment. The little puff of air escaped your mouth and fanned out across his lower stomach, tickling the splattered line of blondish hair that led from his belly button down under his tracksuit bottoms, causing goose bumps to momentarily form there, before they were gone. Michael rubbed soothing circles on the exposed skin just above the rise of your hip bone and in the dip of your stomach; the feather light touches a constant reminder of his fondness. You had been sat curled up like this for over an hour, an old film humming in the background. However, even though you couldn’t see his face or where he was looking, you thought you were the only one actually watching the crappy movie-if the angle of Michael’s head was anything to go by. His nose was nuzzled into your poufy, fly away hair, every now and then pulling away to kiss the check that wasn’t flush to his pale chest. The small circular motions on your side continued but travelled down further, brushing over your hip bone and grazing the edge of your waist band. You leaned into his touch and you felt the corners of his mouth tilt upwards as he smiled into your hair. Still moving his figures, they began to dip under the elastic waist of your leggings, and that was when you sat up and slapped his hand away. Sitting up straight, with Michael still flat out on the bed beneath you, you frowned down at him. He responded with an innocent yet completely guilty smile.

“No peaking!” you scolded. Michael being annoyed at you for figuring out his motives huffed loudly and through his head down on the pillow behind him. “Don’t strop Mikey,” you tried to comfort in sincerity, but failing when it came out sarcastic. “You need to wait till the r-“ he cut you off and finished your sentence “Till the redness has died down. I know, I know”. He mumbled, still pouting. “Soon Michael, Soon” you replied before snuggling back into his stomach.

For months and months now you had been considering getting a tattoo. After so much pestering from Michael, you had even considered getting something to just shut him up, but decided if you were going to permanently ink your skin, it had to be something important. Weeks and days of “maybe’s but maybe not’s” went past before you consented. Much to Michael’s excitement. But to his utter dismay you had point blank refused to let him accompany you to the parlour, and still three days later had yet to let him see the two small swirly words you had gotten tattooed on your hip. Positioned so even a simple bikini could cover it. The tattooist had warned you that the area would be sensitive, swollen and red for the next few days, and advised not to expose it to too much sun and keep it wrapped in cling film till it was no longer painful to touch. Black ink finally marking your skin wasn’t what scared you the most; it was the nervous bubble of butterflies in your stomach that reminded you that soon Michael would see the two words inked there. His reaction was the only one that really mattered. So you muttered the words on your skin to yourself in your head as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

*** 

The redness has gone. That was the first thing that came into your head as you started at your exposed hip in the full length mirror of the bathroom. Michael, as he had done every morning since you got the tattoo, was bouncing around outside the door. Demanding whether the tattoo was ready to be seen. You smiled weakly at your reflection in the mirror, the pent up ball of anxiety in the pit of your stomach churning. Grabbing a pair of Michael’s discarded tracksuit bottoms off the floor, you tugged them on and shouted out to Michael, “Okay, you can see it.” Your voice was weak as you spoke. You heard him shouting with happiness behind the door, but you sucked in a calm breath as you unlocked the bathroom door and walked into the room. He was sitting on the large double bed in your room, his knee tapping and the balls of his feet jumping about. Looking at your with a state of wonder and then partial annoyance when he saw the trousers. “C’mon Y/N!” he cried. “B-before I take t-them off, I want y-you to know that if-if it’s too much, then I c-can keep it covered.” You stuttered out, the nerves getting to you. Michael’s brow furrowed but he nodded slightly.

Taking one last soothing breath, you pulled on the tied drawstring of the bottoms and let them fall to the floor. The black of the tattoo contrasted with the pale of your skin, and now more than ever you felt terrified under Michael’s intense gaze. Still transfixed by the two words, he stumbled onto his knees and walked on them over to where you stood. Trembling hands traced over the print and the dark haired boy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

And back. Two simple words that said everything. And back. To the moon, and back. That was how far your love for Michael would stretch. And now the phrase was stretched across both of your bodies. His on the inside of his arm, yours on your hip bone-more discreet but equally as powerful.

“To the moon.” You whispered. “And back.” He replied, his voice now noticeably more shaky than yours. He glanced at the similar font on your hip to his, and then back up to your face. Frantic breaths caused by your pounding, terrified heart left your mouth. What happened if it was too much? What happens if he didn’t like it? Thought you were too clingy? Hated it? He stood up and cupped your face in his strong yet small hands. “I love it-I love you,” he broke of his sentence, without giving you a chance to react or respond, as he kissed your lips slowly and deeply. It caused the tight knot in your stomach to disappear. “I love you to the moon and back” he whispered against your lips before he pressed them to yours again, almost sealing his words there as a promise. 

Maybe the moon wasn’t far enough away to explain how much you loved the boy who was pressing feather light kisses to your lips.


End file.
